Terra Incognita
by Leonidas-3
Summary: A story from the awakening to the current events of a guardian, awoken into a world that is not his own. (Credit to Reddit User 'Ruley9' for the Mars Picture. Thanks Ruley, if you're out there!)
1. Awakened

" _Guardian_?"

A small mechanical, yet strangely feminine voice, chirped away in the dusty, arid air.

" _Guardian, are you awake?_ "

Groaning slowly emerged from the pile of rubble, rusted sand, and shell casings that covered over a white, robotic figure. Standing up shakily as if from a long, almost century old, nap, the man slowly replied.

"I'm up, god… Who are you?" He asked, his optics slowly adjusting to the glaring rusty atmosphere, opened up freely due to a large blown out hole in the wall and ceiling. He noticed the figure that beckoned his attention: a small orb surrounded by 8 pyramids, more long than wide with the ends flattened down, a small square shaped eye with a smaller circle inside emanating inside the sphere that made its inner body up. Floating. Almost like spirit in the mist.

" _I'm a ghost. Well, I'm your ghost, to be specific._ "

"Ghost? Am I dead?" He almost shot to a conclusion he was dead, and this was some angel to take him to heaven or beyond. She quickly replied, " _No-no, you misunderstood. I revi-_ " However, an interrupting loud, guttural grumble echoed outside of the sealed room, it seeming to echo inside of the hallway. Punctuating it, a loud clashing of metal against metal, as if someone was beating a shield against the sealed entry repeatedly. " _They found us, we need to find you a weapon, a stick.. S-something!_ " The 'ghost' was almost freaking out as if a human was the basis for its emotions. Odd, but still, 'she?' was right. Whatever was past that door, sure wasn't handing out cookies.

"Should we book it? This doesn't exactly look like an armory."

" _An armory! Good idea! The Clovis Bray facility should have an armory nearby!_ "

"Wait, Clovis Bray?" It was a shock to hear that all too familiar name: Clovis was the top research facility for building what he was: An exo, a willing but deceived test subject whose 'humanity' was uploaded onto a data chip, and put into a robotic husk. If it's nearby, this must be near the Bracton Armories, where Exo soldiers were armed.

" _Yes! It should be just 750 meters away._ " She anxiously said, her voice cracking under the pressure of the 'guest'. "Out the hole, or past Smashy-Mc-Door? Both don't seem a good idea outside a 3 story tower."

" _Sand swept through the city, it's less than 2 stories now._ "

"2 stories? Great, I got a weird floating robot who wants me to break a leg."

" _Guardian, you're a warrior of the light, a simple fall won't kill you._ "

"I'm not jumping, you're crazy!"

" _It's not the time to argue!_ " No matter how balls-to-the-walls crazy this orb was, she was right. Either break my legs, or get shattered to bits. He looked down out of the hole, the red sand of Mars evidently filling up most of the streets. Taking a deep breath, he walked back and sprinted out, 'closing his eyes' as he landed into the rusty soil.

" _Alright, now we have to go northward._ "

"I just jumped out of a building, give me some time to get my bearings." He said, his optics shut off, leaving the 'sockets' for his eyes blank.

" _We have to move! The Cabal don't just leave a target behind!_ " A sense of urgency rushed over her voice like a wave of arrows over an attacking army.

"Cabal?" He never heard that name before, but it did sound like something of concern. She almost seemed to sense his uneasy and questioning nature, as she replied, " _Yes, Cabal: Their Empire is heavily militarized and industrial, with a full determination to expand and conquer any galaxy or race, even destroying planets that get in their way._ "

"Why not destroy Mars then? Seems like a bad planet to be stationed on." His immediate retort seemingly made sense, but she almost shot down that idea with a more pronounced approach, " _It's closer to Earth, and again, Conquering galaxies?_ "

"Right, Right." The Exo 'guardian' got up to his feet, determined to walk the three-fourths of a kilometer to get to the armory, ready to arm himself against the onslaught of these 'Cabal', whatever they may be.


	2. Blood Dunes

After a long, arduous trek across fallen buildings, red sand dunes, and destroyed ships of various sizes and types, eventually the Bracton Armory came into view. The building itself was surrounded by toppled facilities, blown out skyscrapers, and the unfamiliar ships from along the hike there.

"This the place, shiny?"

"Please don't call me that, but yes." Ghost replied, floating by the Exo along the trail to here; moving into inside the facility, large burned areas were scattered across the walls and floors, as if grenades were exploded inches away from them. Eventually, they both reached the armory hallway which was, probably unsurprisingly, empty.

"Almost a kilo and nothing? Walking well spent."

"Hold on, I detected weaponry in here... It's gotta be-"

"Well, it's not. You were wrong." He cut her off immediately, still not completely trusting of the thing that brought him here. "I'm starting to think you just wanted to trap me out here, away from anyway of getting out of here."

"Ghosts don't trick their Guardians, so no." She snapped back, trying to maintain a somewhat calm tone, despite the hostile manner towards her.

"Fine, fine." He scoffed, resorting to sorting through a film of red silt on the floor. Parts of rifles, sidearms, and various other high-powered weapons were scattered around, no complete weapons being found. Various manufacturer names showed up: Häkke, Suros, Omolon, but only parts were easily seen, with each name bearing a different design. The Häkke weapons were more compact, attachment rails slapped all along the top and sides; Suros had a sleeker casing, a red eagle design calling out against a white background; Omolon took a more prototype approach, containers that seemed to hold liquid as a proposed propellant or projectile inside a wireframe.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"There has to be something around here." After this statement, the Ghost drifted away from him, seemingly disappearing in a slight flash of blue light. Eventually coming back in the same flash, she said excitedly, "There's a couple of rifles in the next room! Quick, quick!"

The stomping of boots against concrete ricocheted throughout the hallway, the two sprinting to where weapons were supposedly found. Thankfully, weapon racks with scattered brands of rifles were found, some having a standard magazine assembly, others having a magazine behind the trigger in the stock. He decided to grab the latter, it being more compact.

"So, any information on this rifle you can give me?"

"It's a Häkke Lyudmila-D Pulse Rifle, it fires in 4 shot bursts and holds 36 rounds within its magazine, equating to about 9 full bursts before reloading." She stated, the information being simple in nature but slightly informative; He still wished to know more about this rifle he now holds. "Anything else I need to know?"

"As opposed to normal models, this one has an improved amount of stability when firing for extended periods, along with an integrated threat sensor to increase damage output when more than 3 hostiles are nearby." His head was spinning from the explanation, this rifle being much more complex than a simple 'point-and-shoot'. How the hell was he supposed to memorize all that information within such a short time frame?; "So what you're saying is, I can control it easier, and it gives me more bang when enemies are close?"

"That's essentially it."

He loaded a magazine from on the rack, sliding it into the rifle's bullpup magazine well. Without any form of charging handle or bolt, it snapped in place and was ready to fire. It was almost 9.7 kilograms, a hefty rifle for sure, with a 801 millimeter length, from buttstock to rifle barrel. He tested the ammunition well, the magazine sliding in and out easily as if only held in place with magnets and faith. Loading up more magazines onto his simple body armor, he turned to the ghost, "Now that we have a weapon sorted out, are there any places to get better armor?"

"Not as of yet, but if we can find some Golden Age security forces, you might be able to use one of their helmets." Golden Age Security? That must've been an eternity ago, considering the dilapidated state of Freehold as of now. But they were known for sturdy armor that lasts even in the toxic atmosphere of Venus, so it shouldn't be hard to find armor that would be still intact.

"Alright, are there any suits around?"

"Yes, in the security block 50 kilometers south." Oh thank god, it was only a short walk. Maybe this ghost wasn't so bad after all. Gathering up enough ammo to tide over an army, he strode into the still empty hallway southward, eventually reaching a station filled with skeletons dressed with security armor, the objective was seemingly easier than expected. He stripped the corpses of their armor, putting down magazines and rifle to slide the armor over his own. Securing buckles and sealing the visor, he found a prompt that said, "Rifle detected, sync up Heads-Up Display with ammunition?" After somehow selecting yes, an icon of his rifle appeared in the right corner of the screen, the magazine, and somehow, the reserve ammo showed up.

"So, this the armor?" He said, his voice now muffled through the armor.

"Yes, now we need a way to get you back to The Tower."

"Tower?" Before he could get an answer, a ship flew outside of the building; the same, familiar grumbling of the assailant outside the door where he first woke were heard, but in larger numbers.

"Oh no, oh no, the Cabal! They found us!" She disappeared into the Exo, a slight chill running down his artificial spine. Eventually, the same voice that came from the ghost when she was floating seemed to be coming from his own brain. "Alright, Cabal have extremely thick armor. You'll need a few hits to take them down."

"Wait, how are you..?!"

"I synced with you, don't worry. Every Guardian has a ghost that drifts in and out of them."

"That sounds... Strange, but I don't feel any adverse effects." That much was true: It was almost as if she was always there, taking up no space, but still being there. He proceeded out the hall to confront his attackers.

A large section of large, hulking soldiers was waiting out in the hallway; Their armor was smooth and plated, chipped orange paint punctuated on the top of the right pauldron, left shoulder having a collection of pouches at the meeting of the shoulder blade to the arm. Underneath this collection of armor was a thick body suit, almost like armor in-on-itself. The helmet was almost a dome with a slit at the front, presumably the visor in which the soldier saw through. Its weapon was impressive as well, a large triangular shaped rifle, with the tip of the 'triangle' having a barrel that extended a quarter of the way. At the front of this platoon was the commander, dressed with similar armor, but having two pauldrons with blades moving backwards from the front of the blades. On its back was two wing-like projections, a light mounted on the leftward plate, presumably to find a way through dark environments. Augmenting the 5 or so soldiers with just rifles were shield-bearers, with full body shields that had an oblong octagonal shape.

"Those... Are Cabal?"

"Yes. The ones with shields are Phalanxes, normal soldiers are Legionnaires, and that one at the front is a Centurion." They hadn't noticed the Exo yet, but they were searching the building already. He raised his rifle, and fired a couple shots at the domepiece of a Legionnaire, the helmet popping off and fountaining an oily substance. However, this wasn't blood; instead, it appeared to fill up the suit of the soldier, their face head appearing when the helmet was destroyed. Almost the same shape of a short and width spud, their mouth was largely lacking lips, with pointed but blunt teeth, their eyes mounted between the front and sides of the head. Ignoring the nightmare fuel it's hideous face and armor combined to make, he continued loading rounds into the Legionnaires, them retaliating with gunfire. If he didn't know why the marks on the walls existed then, he sure did now; the bullets from their rifles were less bullet like, and more like a small grenade, coated in a fiery propellant. The explosion was small, but the splashback could be felt even a foot away. He shot blindly, hitting targets in the chest, arms, and legs, but not enough to damage them intensely. As he reloaded a shot hit him square in the chest, sending him staggering back. It hurt almost more than a gunshot, as he recoiled in pain. A bar on the top of his visor showed a thick red line 1/4 of the way out of the left edge. Eventually, almost in seconds, the pain subsided and the red changed to blue, than a cyan as the top of is visor filled up to full.

"What..? Why don't I feel like someone took a sledgehammer to my chest?"

"You're a warrior of the Traveller, bullets don't kill you easily." This answer shocked him; I can't die easily? If that's so... More gunfire was traded, before the fog lifted around the two new companions. Even though the fight was somewhat easy, it was still important to find one more thing.

A ride off this sandy red rock.


	3. Out of the Kiln

After the previous encounter with his first adversaries, he almost always checked his weapon, now strung around his shoulder, for a full stock of ammunition, hoping he was forever ready for his next encounter. A continued trek across the martian surface showed no finding of complete, or even semi-complete, space worthy vessels. Every ship or fighter had been scavenged, destroyed, or presumably taken off this red rock of a planet.

"We've been walking for hours, and no passage off."

" _Some Clovis Bray facilities come standard with DNH-3 Blockade Runners, unusually going against their name as use for cargo carriage_."

"Well, nice of you to mention that halfway through." He half-way joked, a little frustrated still from the fact that she kept mostly useful information until it was convenient.

" _It wasn't mentioned because I was sure most vessels WERE space worthy_."

"Either way, can you perform a scan of all nearby facilities?" He suggested the small orb, with her suddenly materializing out of him, that same familiar shiver shuddering through him. "C-c-can you please warn me next time? That feels too weird to be doing it a million times."

" _Sorry, Guardian_." She sheepishly apologized, the small eye inside of the eight triangular prisms looking to the side, as though she was embarrassed. However, she recovered from the 'embarrassment' quickly, floating upwards into the air above him, seemingly having her eyepiece surrounded by a sphere of blue energy, the pyramid pieces being at their original places on the inner orb, but moved to the outwards edge of the sphere. Eventually, she reformed back into the standard form, drifting back towards his shoulder, where the small mechanical ghost was located.

" _Alright, Facility 3 has an Intact Runner, although it still needs a warp drive to get farther than the surface._ "

"Warp Drive? There might be a replacement in the facility or in one of the crashed ships we've seen scattered around."

" _That's not a bad idea, how about we temporarily split up and look around? I'll look in wrecks around here, and you can go find the ship. We'll keep in touch via comms_." After the explanation, the two agreed to temporarily part ways. He moved on, trudging through the sands into a large theater shaped structure, with various different numbers scattered around the walls, along with an ancient poster that reads along 4 lines: 'Двигайтесь к лучшему завтра, с Кловисом Брэй!', along with 'Будущее начинается с Сива.', but a large amount of words were scrawled out or illegible. Either way, he found the third facility, or at least that was the presumption, as the doorway was signed with the words 'Залив Ангар, Объект 3'. His communication device, mounted on the side of his helmet, crackled to life, testing the transmission to Ghost. "!e-ti~g? Te~+in=, 1 ^ 3, Gh*st? Do y+u read?" Even though the helmet itself was intact, the device was incredibly damaged and stagnant. The message was still a bit scrambled, but a response still eminated back. " _G+=rd1an, I -~ar you, h+v3 you f%u^d the 5h!p?_ " "N`t yet, ~u+ I've f()u;d the fac!;ity." A static response from Ghost wasn't even audible, and eventually, the comm almost fell apart off his helmet. He 'rolled' his eyes, due to having a terrible comm, and not having the ability to communicate again. Slowly, he descended up the slightly lit hallways, winding around stairwells and elevators, and finding a large empty room with more broken Blockade Runners, although their was one, third out of four ships, that had a slight gray paint job: a square shaped ship, engines a similar blocky shape, 4 engines at the very back with a triangular positioning, all being placed backwards in one direction, without any sideways directing thrusters. The ship was obviously meant for forward direction, breaking hostile lines, and not maneuverability. He almost smiled, moving over to investigate the quality: Mostly untouched, the bottom of the ship had a large hole on the bottom, guessing someone gutted the warp drive out, be it a Cabal Soldier or someone hoping to escape someway else.

"Ghost, this message may not come through, but if you get it, I found the ship, and if you found the warp drive, deliver it to my coordinates; I'm seeing if some parts are rearrangeable into a usable form." Various wires were disconnected from the engine compartment, the theory about being gutted seemed to be holding truthful. After some major modifications, everything was connected back together and ready to connect into any form of engine.

A blue flash behind the ship, along with a light crash indicated that Ghost had found a warp drive of some caliber, her mechanical chirp signalling her arrival, " _Guardian! I've found a compatible warp drive off the same model of ship as this one_." The warp drive seemed bulky, and extremely heavy. "How am I supposed to pick it up?" " _Try, you might be able to drag it along the ground towards your new jumpship_." Really? Drag an engine that weighs possibly a ton? Oh well, might try to humor Ghost with it. He got out of the crouching position under the ship, moving over to the drive, eventually holding onto two handles, moving into reverse. It followed behind him easily, surprising him to the point of letting go. "How... How did I move that? How?" He stuttered, completely shocked by his abilities. " _I've told you before. Warrior of the light_." She said, as if carrying a ton with ease was a simple act. "But, it's over a ton. I don't have an immense amount of strength. It's a complete miracle!.." He loudly proclaimed, appalled a little at this act of 'light', as Ghost seemingly keeps rambling about. " _It's probably better to ask the Speaker, he knows most about the light. The more time we spend here, the less time we have before more Cabal find us_." She was right. No matter how much this made him question everything he once believed or thought. But he had more important matters, such as repairing his ticket out of here. Surely enough, mounting the engine into its compartment, reconnecting all the wires into the final piece, lifting it up to click into it's final resting spot. Finding a piece of metal, he placed it over the hole from getting gutted, welding it shut. It was pretty easy to climb onto the ship itself, sliding himself into a hatch to its cockpit, finding buttons, levers, and two joysticks for easy control. Ghost floated into the ship, floating close to him. " _Shall I input coordinates for Earth? I'll turn it to autopilot for ease of access_." "That would be appreciated, as all this 'light' business is a lot to absorb at once, might have to sit down for a while to reflect." " _Understood, Setting coordinates to the Last City_." The ship clicked and whirred into life, almost a weightless feeling washing through him inside of this metal rocket. A slight grinding sound was heard above him, presumably hitting the ceiling, the thrusters flaring in the back, blasting out with a shock of speed, finally granting a rite of passage off this rock of pure blood red sand.

Now, it was time to go to the last stronghold of humanity.


	4. Tandem Urbis

After simply a half hour of traveling between Mars and Earth, the ancient jumpship broke orbit around South America, travelling across a beautifully blue ocean, presumably the Atlantic, before reaching the European Dead Zone. A thousand mile long area, which used to hold the major cities of Old Europe, it was dead, no communications, no electronics, nothing. Gothic architecture from the 21nd and 22nd centuries sprawled across rolling faded green hills, rugged mountains, and shallow lakes. Soon, as if a moon was floating about a miniature New York City, was what ghost called 'The Last City', a simple collection of steel topped buildings, small crowded shops, and multiple walkways spanning tens of miles. 6 tall, noble towers stood along a mile high wall, all but one ravaged or seemingly abandoned. The final tower was the one his ship gravitated towards, with red banners, white concrete structuring, and grey metal support beams. Sparkling detail and lighting seemed to emanate out of every crevice and crenelation, before he eventually was brought to a lavish courtyard. Bringing him a shock, as he was previously in his ship not too long ago, he cowered onto the ground.

"Wait, wait, wait, how am I here? I was just in my ship!" He nervously stuttered out, the relaxation of his ship enveloping him in a husk of metal and electronics, now surrounded by air with the faint scent of vanilla, pine, and slightly copper. His ghost popped out with the same materialization effect she had previously used on Mars.

" _I transmatted you out, your ship should be docking right abouuut..._ " She waited, a whooshing motion sounded behind him; His ship flew on its own, docking in a lavish blue hangar hidden from his current view, where it would be checked for any form of tracking device or damage. " _... Now._ " She finished, turning to him. " _Well, here we are. The Last City on Earth._ "

"It's... Beautiful. And this place is so peaceful." He slowly eased himself up to his feet, looking better at the expansive tower. More Guardians were walking, talking, and... Handing glowing dodecahedrons of various colors to a man with bluish-purple skin? This struck him as curious, moving over to see what was going on. This man, dressed in drab tan robes with yellow detailing, was under a tent like structure with multiple tables, crates, and hanging lights off the front edges of this 'tent'. The individual stood a few inches away from the table under the front of the structure, locking his hands into a professional gesture in front of him. A guardian dressed in robes, a helmet with a visor seemingly made of pure dark matter with gloves that seemingly held a sun around her wrist, handed this man this crystalline structure, he gave her back an armor piece? Strange, maybe once these two were done conversating...

"Here you are, Warlock. Magnificent find." He handed robes of a lavish black towards this 'warlock', thankfully not of an evil variety, who took them with very little thanks, almost as if she wasn't pleased with them. She walked off, no other guardians seemingly going to him again.

"Excuse me, sir?" He walked towards the figure, asking with an enquiring tone. "Hmm? Was there something you needed, Guardian?" Again with the formalities, but still... At least this man had respect.

"I'm so sorry, I just came to the tower and was wondering... What do you do here?" He asked rather sheepishly, this being one of his first human contact from his awakening. "Well, thank you for a curiosity into my work. My name is Master Rahool, and I am the tower's Cryptarch, studied in the arts of Cryptoarchaeology, or the art of decoding crystalline structures of condensed matter." He explained, rather as if no-one took an interest in the work he was doing. "You mean the thing that she brought to you?" He motioned to the Warlock, who had stored her new robes away in a large, octagonal totem, with consoles on 4 sides. "Yes, they are known mostly by the name 'Engrams', which I will happily decode into items for your use in combat." He said, with a minor level of excitement. Rahool seemed like an interesting person, decoding items for his fellow guardians to use to their leisure. He smiled, taking an immediate liking to this man's profession. "Thank you, Master Rahool, I shall certainly bring any engram I find to you." Rahool replied back with a small smile, before a bulkier armored guardian brought another to him. It was time to explore this tower some more, to see what his new 'home' would be like.

He proceeded down a flight of stairs, diagonal to this tent structure, quite a few feet away, to find a small place with two more smaller stairwells. After descending down the steps on the left side, he found himself in a brightly lit hallway, a window capping at the end, overviewing the outer wall of this city. A large rectangular pit was in the middle of the floor, a 12 foot long and 5 foot wide table overflowing with papers, ink pens, maps, and other clutter, with three guardians around it without helmets on. The first guardian, closest to the entrance, was an African-American warlock, her having purplish grey robes, with a simple white ghost. The second, an Exo, was standing across from the table, near to the middle, with a ghost having shield like projections on the top and bottom, loomed over a map of some sort. The final guardian, similar to the Cryptarch upstairs, was in the same position as his Exo friend, but instead having bulkier armor, with a curved shoulder pauldron almost over his head. He was the first to notice the new visitor, greeting him in with a stoic expression. "A new guardian? I believe introductions are in order." He stood up, crossing his arms behind his back, the Exo shooting up and looking over, "Oh, hey! Didn't see ya there." He leaned up against the table, facing him. Mrs Warlock barely moved, looking simply over with a slight smile, "Greetings, welcome to the Vanguard Hall." In the same order of noticing, they introduced themselves accordingly. "My name is Commander Zavala, I am the Awoken Titan Vanguard." "Name's Cayde-6, Hunter Vanguard. From the looks of you, I know you know I'm an Exo." "Ikora Rey, Human Warlock Vanguard. It's a true pleasure to have another bright spark of light." They all spoke in distinct tones; Zavala addressed in a more civil, commanding tone, respective of a leader. Cayde seemed to be more of someone who joked, but he still seemed like he did some work. Ikora spoke wisely, addressing in almost a mystic, magical manner. "I'm, well, not sure how to welcome myself, but uh, it's a pleasure to meet all of you." They nodded once, understanding that being so new was confusing.

"I believe we should introduce this new light to the Speaker." Zavala suggesting, Cayde and Ikora agreeing almost immediately. "Yeah, sounds good." "Wonderful idea, he must have so many questions." The Hunter Vanguard got up, and rubbed his hands together like he was scheming. "Alright, since all of you must have important Vanguard business, I'll get him to the Speaker." "Cayde, don't you have paperwork to do?" Ikora seriously reminded him, this seemingly something that happens a lot. "What? Sorry, my audio sensors cut out. Anyways, let's go." He walks up, past 'the new light', and motions him to follow. Eventually, after going up all the flights of stairs, they moved right, opposite direction from Rahool, up only a few stairs, to a doorway that lead down into a darker hallway. Mostly stairs, they both walked down the stairs and winded around a corner, being met with a smaller tower with an extremely tall opening.

"Alright, just go through that doorway and talk to the Speaker. I gotta go, Zavala's probably gonna tear me a new one." Cayde joked, going the same way they came. After the jokester had left, he went through the door to what was, presumably, where he would get some answers. "Hello?" He said to no one, hoping his all his answers would be solved in this room. No reply came back, until a man walked down, in full robes, with long sleeves, black gloves, and black boots, along with a face mask that hid his entire face. "Welcome. I assume you have just arrived here?" As if he was watching his entire arrival, the man softly spoke, a slight English accent almost drifting along his words. "Yes sir, so you're the Speaker? What does your title mean?" "I speak for the Traveler, whose voice has gone silent after our war with the Darkness." "Darkness?" "Yes..." He descended almost dreamlike down a winding staircase, recollecting a story that must have been ancient, "Long ago, when we had met the Traveller, it had granted us powers beyond imagination. Space travel, technological marvels... But, that changed when the darkness found it. The Golden Age brought about by the Traveller ended, and in its dying breath, it made the ghosts. But the Dark has not diminished... There have been stories told about it to frighten children: The stories have stopped, but the children are frightened anyway..." He held his head slightly lower, obviously saddened by the need to cower behind a dying protector. But he continued, trying to forget the horrible thoughts of this 'Darkness', "You are the last hope of the light, and it is your destiny to join your brothers and sisters beyond Earth." After absorbing this mission ahead of him, he slowly asked, "Where can I start?" He bravely stood upright, filled with determination to help humanity regain its strength. "You must find who you are. Talk to the Vanguard, and they will help you find the path."

"But, they don't know who I am, they don't know how new this is to me." He simply replied, still feeling somewhat hopeless against something much bigger than himself. "Guardians find their path, and you will too. But the reassurance the Traveller gives you is what defines you. Who are you?" The Speaker asked such a great question, but almost as if a second voice erupted within the Exo, he replied. What he said was simple, but powerful.

"I am Leonidas-3, and I am a Guardian."


End file.
